


Iron

by Nathamuel



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gang Rape, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Aftermath, Rape Fantasy, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-11 17:43:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nathamuel/pseuds/Nathamuel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had used Fandral, made him a fuck toy and a substitute for who they really wanted. Now he would have to live with the memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trovia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trovia/gifts).



> This little story was a request by Trovia. I hope you like it somewhat. :)  
> The title is from the song with the same name by Woodkid, even though the song and story don't really have anything in common.

The feast was in full swing around Fandral and he took a sip from his tankard, grinning, when he heard the joke that Volstagg was telling the young boys and girls that sat in front of him. It was a joke of the dirtier kind but they were probably too young, yet, to understand it, but that didn't keep Volstagg from telling it anyway. Volstagg loved his stories and jokes. Some men jostled Fandral when they walked past and the pretty woman that was sitting on his lap stood up when he didn't pay her enough attention, but he didn't care. She was young, with beautiful dark hair and stunning blue eyes but she had been dull and he was not yet drunk enough to not care. 

The was sun sinking over the horizon outside and the light fell in through the high glass ceiling arching over the room and the huge windows, reflecting off the silver and gold walls and ornaments and catching on the thin metal thread woven into the clothes of this world, making the people almost seem to sparkle with every step they took. They were dancing in joy throughout the vast hall. Fandral quite enjoyed watching them. It was a pleasure to behold. 

Another woman moved to take the place of the one before. She had dark honey-colored hair which flowed over slim shoulders and sea-green eyes that glittered with obvious intent, but he waved her away, ignoring the way she huffed in disappointment and turned her back on him to stomp away, reminiscent of a child. For now he wanted to enjoy the food and drink, because the evening was still young and there was still plenty of time to take a women or two or even a man with him to his room to keep him company for the night. Who would have thought that a world that was still so young, just having reached the outskirts of the nine worlds, and thus moving into range of the protection of Asgard, could throw such big feasts? And all in thanks for the protection that Thor and his companions, Fandral included, had given them, saving their world from a dark presence that had haunted them. 

And it was a beautiful world, rich and blooming now that the darkness had been chased away, letting light return to the place. Everything seemed to shimmer and sparkle, almost like they wanted to make up for the poor and desolate state Thor and his companions had first found the world in. A group of people passed Fandral by and he felt hands brush over his light-colored hair. He smiled at them. They seemed to be hungry for everything light and shining now. 

Fandral let his gaze roam over the hall, packed with people and with Thor and his gang at the very center. Every one of them was surrounded by a flock of men and women that hung on their every word. The inhabitants of this world reminded Fandral of a mix of Midgard and Asgard with their golden halls and flowing clothes, but unlike the Asgardians they were not physically strong. They had some magic in them, too, but not enough, yet, to protect themselves. 

To Fandral's left Hogun kept most of his admirers at bay with his usual silence, speaking only with one woman that seemed to have caught his eye, while Sif beside him was telling a tale of her heroics to a group of young men, visibly pleased to be seen as a worthy warrior. In contrast Thor had sent everyone on their way that had shown an interest, keeping them at arm's length with a pleasant smile. Many eyes lay on the golden prince of Asgard, hungry and wondrous, joyous and full of gratitude. 

Fandral took another drink from his tankard, the brew had a sweet taste to it that he enjoyed, and moved to stand, deciding that he wanted to keep Thor company for a while. Dizziness swept over him just as he had straightened and he had to brace himself on the table before his legs could buckle under him. The brew they served on this world was stronger than he would have thought. Impressive, if they could make him feel drunk after only a few drinks. Usually Asgardians could hold their liquor and Asgardian drinks were one of the strongest around. He heard his companions laugh and he waved them away with a grin, only slightly embarrassed. The room spun in front of his eyes and he blinked, waiting for it to stop. Two women appeared at his side, one with black hair, the other brunette, and their hands slid over his sides and back as they supported him. Their eyes were the same honey-color, maybe they were sisters and quite pretty ones at that.

"Are you feeling alright?" The black-haired women said in a low, warm voice and Fandral leaned in closer to her when the world had stopped tilting on its axis, smiling in a way he knew usually made the ladies swoon at least slightly.

"Of course I am." He purred and enjoyed how rosy her cheeks got at his tone. Another wave of dizziness swept over him and he swayed on the spot, feeling the grip of the women grow stronger to make up for his weight. Carefully he breathed through it and then turned an apologetic grin on the two women. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Thor sit up a little straighter, and Hogun's watchful gaze on him, but he gave them a signal that he was alright and they turned away again. There was no need for them to worry just because he had one too many. 

"If you could help me back to my room so I can lie down, that would be quite lovely." He said to the women and when they nodded he threw one arm each around them and let himself be led away, through the crowd, waving a last farewell to his companions and hearing them cheer. They probably thought he was taking the pretty girls to his room for a round or two between the sheets but he was too busy taking care of where his feet stepped to correct them. With the way the hall tilted around him, sex was the last thing on his mind.

"Are you sure that you are feeling well, Lord Fandral?" The brunette woman at his side asked in a pleasant voice and he nodded his head even though it grew more difficult to control his limbs, like there were lead weights attached to him. Whatever they served in this world it was strong. But a lie-down would make him right as rain and ready for another round or two with the alcohol.

When he didn't feel quite as bad for a moment he spoke to correct her. 

"Please call me Fandral." He said with a smile and then turned his focus back to his feet as his surrounding seemed to tilt in front of his eyes. The hands of the women slid over his body, more than they needed to prop him up and steady him but he was too uncoordinated to tell them to stop. 

At his room one of the women, he didn't know which one, opened the door and they lead him inside, letting him fall on his bed more roughly than needed. To his embarrassment, a giggle escaped Fandral when he bounced on the mattress upon contact and the women shared a look he couldn't decipher. There was something in their eyes, a sparkle of emotion that Fandral couldn't name in his current condition. He closed his eyes, limbs heavy and waited for the steps that would indicate them leaving. Instead he felt the bed dip with the extra weight of two bodies. 

"Do you really want to sleep in your clothes?" One of the women asked Fandral with a teasing note in her voice and a second later two hands were on the front of his pants. Fandral made a protesting noise, opening his eyes to slits and making a sloppy grab for her arms but he could barely lift his arms. Sluggishly he wondered why he suddenly felt this bad. Alcohol had never had this effect on him before. Alcohol had never made him lose this much control over himself and he could tell quite a few stories of what he had gotten up to while intoxicated.

"I just need to sleep this off. Leave my clothes, please, and close the door on your way out." He mumbled, closing his eyes again, and felt another set of hands on his shirt, unbuttoning it with nimble fingers. The woman that took care of his shirt, the black-haired one, bared his torso to the warm air of his room and slid her palms over his naked skin, over his chest and although it felt nice in a faraway sort of way the room was still tilting around him, making him feel ill, and he could hardly move a muscle and that worried him. It was not a pleasant feeling. 

"No." He whispered, too weak to raise his voice and the women giggled. One of them kissed him square on the lips and slipped her tongue into his mouth. Fandral turned his head away and she bit down his neck instead. He made a noise in his throat, trying to push himself up on his elbows but falling back against the bed again. 

Meanwhile Fandral felt the tug as the second woman pulled his pants down his legs, along with his underwear, and let the fabric fall over the side of the bed. He watched through half open eyes as their hungry gazes roamed over his form. The last of his strength had left him. With his breath elated, he watched how their hands caressed his body and distantly he could feel his body react but it was like he was trapped inside his own head without any way of participating or pushing them away. 

The women stroked him to hardness and with a happy moan the woman with the dark hair sank down on his cock. Fandral let out a protesting groan, trying to move his hips to buck her off but it only turned into a weak motion that seemed to urge her on. Bile rose in Fandral's throat and he swallowed it down. He felt sick. Every touch the women placed on him felt stained. 

Why were they doing this to him?

The woman on top of him moved more urgently and a moment later she came with a small, triumphant sounding cry, slumping over him and placing her hands on his chest to brace herself. Then Fandral watched them kiss and in any other situation he would have found that erotic, now he only wanted to struggle and push her off, push them both off but his body was not listening to him anymore. 

Then it was the other woman's turn and she help her companion down to lay beside Fandral before she sank down on him as well, riding him and chasing her own pleasure, while the other turned Fandral's head her way and proceeded to kiss him. That was, at least, still an area that Fandral had a little power over even if it wasn't enough to speak beyond a mumble. He bit the woman's tongue when she slid it into his mouth and she pulled back with a hiss, glaring. 

"Such a rude man you are, Fandral." She frowned but she didn't try to kiss him again. Instead she turned to her friend and kissed her, helping her reach the peak with a hand between her legs, rubbing her clit. 

Fandral made a noise of protest when both of their palms wrapped around his cock afterwards, one of them even slipping a hand to his ass to press against his hole, and he felt sick when his own orgasm washed over him, making him spill over their hands. He stared at them, watching their faces for any malicious intent or guilt but there was only a twin smile on their faces.

"Having you feels even better than we would have thought." One of them said and the other agreed with a nod, giving Fandral a last peck on the lips before they gracefully got up from his bed and got dressed. 

"It was pretty boring, though, that you only laid there and let us do all the work." The one with dark hair said with a tiny frown but her eyes were sparkling with laughter. Fandral growled low in his throat in answer, all he could do in his condition, and they patted his thigh and left through the door without another backward glance.

Fandral's gaze skipped over his room, mind pushing his body to heed him again but nothing happened. He was reluctant to try to call the guards because what should he say? That he was overpowered by women he didn't even know? What a dishonor. All of the sudden he felt tired and sleep overtook him before he had even time to wonder about that.

***

When Fandral woke up again he was clothed and lying on his bed. His head felt like it was skirting a hangover but overall he felt good. There was unease, though, and he wasn't sure if there really had been two women with him yesterday or if it had only been a wicked dream, brought on by too much alcohol. A knock on his door startled him out of his thoughts before he could settle on a decision. 

"A moment, please!" he called out and rose from his bed, stumbling a step when his legs felt weak but the next moment they found their strength again and carried him to the door.

Volstagg waited on the other side with a big grin on his face and a loud "Good morning!" for Fandral. Fandral flinched a little bit as his head decided that it might yet settle on a more hung over approach this morning and started to ache. 

"I wish you a good morning as well my dear friend." Fandral returned the greeting and the grin and together they returned to the great hall for the feast in their honor that was planned to last a couple of days, with breaks in between for sleeping, making small talk along the way. 

"Did you have a good night with the two pretty ladies you left with?" Volstagg asked him with a wink right before they reached the great doors leading to the hall, a guard standing on either side of it. A cold feeling came over Fandral. It had been real after all and someone had poisoned his drink, but before he could say anything to Volstagg, or could decide if he wanted to tell Volstagg anything, they were swallowed by the crowd and it got too loud for conversation as a group of people began a rowdy song that everyone but the guests joined in.

Fandral sat with his companions through the next songs and entertainment, lost in thought, staring at the drink in his hand. Women and men came to him, wanting him to dance with them or tell them tales, but he waved them away. The last night had made any mood for unknown company vanish. He kept his eyes on who was bringing the drinks and who filled their tankards again but he did not see the women from last night. Slowly he calmed down. 

"Are you well, Fandral?" Hogun asked beside him in his quiet voice and Fandral looked at him for a moment before he said. "Yes, everything is alright." With that he downed the content of his tankard and called for another. Two women were not enough to ruin this feast.

Hours later he cursed his stupidity when his limbs grew heavy. The call of his bladder urged him to stand and he threw a glance at his companions, absorbed in conversations, and stumbled to the restrooms. He felt a little tired and unsteady and mused if he should retire for the night as he relieved himself. Before he could leave the restroom his legs grew too weak to carry him and he slumped against the wall beside the door, seeing it opening. A man stepped inside and grinned, amused, when he saw Fandral who grinned back at him apologetically. 

"Need help?" The man asked. His tone was nice, pleasant, and it suddenly reminded Fandral of the women from the other night. They had sounded nice as well. Fandral froze but didn't fight it, caught between decisions, when the man laid an arm around Fandral's shoulder comradely and lead him outside. Fandral protested when, instead of bringing him to his companions, they walked down the corridor past the hall where the feast was still in full swing. 

Fandral felt weaker by the minute, beyond drunk, uncoordinated. He struggled against the man's grip but to no avail. He was as weak as a kitten with all his Asgardian strength sapped from him, it seemed. How stupid and careless he had been. Fandral's legs went out from under him and the man chuckled like it was the most amusing thing, dragging him the last few steps to a door and into the room beyond. There was no guard to be seen everywhere. Fandral wasn't even sure if guards would have helped him.

They weren't alone in what looked to be a bedroom. Beside the man leading him to the bed there were two women, but not the ones from last night, and another two men. All of them wore similar smiles, happy ones mixed with anticipation. Fandral dreaded what was to come. 

"What do you want from me?" He asked them, cursing how weak and small his voice sounded, nothing like a true warrior of Asgard. They laughed and he watched them undress, still propped up by the man who had led him to this room and then they divested him of his clothes as well without giving him an answer.

"Don't do this." He told them, stomach churning when they laid him on the bed, arranging him the way they wanted him. 

"You're so pretty." One of the women crooned at him and slid a hand through his hair, mesmerized by the color, before she leaned down for a kiss he didn't return. It was like he was paralyzed. Just like the last time. The woman that had kissed him straddled him and gripped his cock in one hand. Fandral cursed how quickly he got hard, his body not in accord with his mind. He gasped at the feeling, growing hard under her palm.

"Let me go." He gasped and heard them laugh. 

"Why do you want to leave? You seem to enjoy yourself." The woman on top of him purred and sunk down on him. The others watched them like hawks, eyes gleaming and the cocks of the men jutting from their groins. The second woman came to his and took his hand in hers, leading it between her thighs and pressing three of his fingers together to push them into herself. Her wetness swallowed him and he felt the men move his legs apart. A moment later wet fingers slid over his hole and he whimpered when they pushed inside.

"I don't want this, please." He said, ashamed, and knew it was useless the moment the words left his mouth. Predictably they laughed and one of them, he didn't know who, he was starting to lose track of them all, slapped his ass lightly just before a cock slid into him, spreading him wide.

"Why are you hard if you don't want it?" One of the men said and pried Fandral's jaw apart to plunder his mouth.

***

Fandral's head felt hazy when he opened his eyes and closed them again against the light that hurt his sight. It was sunlight that fell in through the windows of his room. Groggily he looked around but nothing was out of place here. When had he come back to his own room? How could he have drunk so much? He thought and froze when the memories came back to him in a rush.

The strangers. The little room. Hands that had grasped at him, slapped him and held him down. Hands that had caressed him and brought him pleasure as he had begged them to stop and let him go, that he didn't want it, while they laughed in his face and called him pretty. And all through it he was like paralyzed, only his mind had worked overtime but without his limbs obeying him he could do nothing but lie there and take it as they had moved in him, over him, using his body as they pleased.

Fandral's hands were shaking when he threw his blankets to the sides. Last night they had left bruises but his skin was unmarred. There was nothing, no proof it could have all been in his mind. A tiny sob escaped Fandral and he pushed it down. He had to talk to the others, no matter how much shame had been brought upon him. He had to know if the others were safe from these advances.

Quickly he got out of bed, slipped into his clothes from the day before and walked from his room to the feast. From farther away he could hear Volstagg's booming voice and then Fandral could see them too. Sif and Hogun sitting together, deep in conversation and Volstagg with a bunch of children and young men and women in front of him, who he told tales, both which, happened and details he added to them for flavor. Thor sat a little away with an amused smile on his handsome face, listening to the stories as well. They all looked unharmed.

Fandral pushed through the crowd, locking eyes with Thor who grinned at him, but before he could reach him a woman stopped in front of him and pulled him into a kiss. Her lips tasted strange and Fandral exhaled shakily. He recognized that taste from the last days but now it had been even more pronounced. A little group formed around him, bodies pressing against him and under protests that grew weaker with every breath, he was swept from the room.

Something was different this time. His limbs felt heavy, but not quite so much, doing what he told them and he pushed one of the men against the wall. It was their number that overpowered him, grabbing him by the arms, yanking at his hair and no one around to see them leading him into a room. He fought against them as the haziness faded, faster this time. His body had recognized the drug and was fighting it, like he was fighting his attackers. They were panting with effort, but step for step they brought him closer to the bed. The click of a lock could be heard and then another. Cold metal wrapped around one of Fandral's wrists and he strained against it as his arm was pulled back behind his back. Another click and coldness indicated the shackle on his other arm and he was pulled back, kicking a man in the shin and hearing it crack, against the bed. One of the women doubled over as he landed a kick to her chest as she tried to hold one of his legs down. 

He heard them coo at him. They were laughing, slightly breathless, but like they had the time of their lives.

"What a strong Asgardian you are." They marveled with eyes that seemed to glitter in the candle light. 

"And so kinky, too. Why didn't you tell us that you like to be held down?" One of the men laughed while he tied a chain around the sturdy headboard. Fandral snarled at him and caught one, he did not who, in the groin with his foot, hearing a satisfyingly pained groan.

Five against one was not in his favor, with the drug making him weaker then he normally would be and soon enough they poured another, bigger dose, of the drug down his throat after they had immobilized him on the bed. He panted for breath and heard them speak. It sounded distorted to his ears, like he was underwater. His head jerked to the side, his limbs moved as he fought against the restraints. 

"You gave him too much." Was hissed and there was the sound of a slap, like someone had been slapped. 

"How should I know how much to give him? It was enough the last days but his body seems to have adapted." Someone complained. Fandral's eyes had trouble focusing. The faces seemed to blur in front of him, changing into horrible grimaces that made them look like monsters. How fitting. A laugh escaped Fandral. Maybe it was the fear needing an outlet or he'd scream. And he did scream later, as their fingers seamed to change into claws that tore into him. His skin felt like it was on fire, then doused in ice. He couldn't tell anymore what was real and what the hallucination was.

***

When Fandral woke up again (and oh how he started to dread waking up) he had just enough time to turn on his side before the contents of his stomach, nothing much since he hadn't drank and ate for the last days, were emptied on the floor beside his bed. He was back in his own room. His breath was harsh and overly loud in the silence of his own room with panic clawing at his chest. The fact that he had 'only' two more days of this feast to survive, before they were needed back home, was no consolation. Two days felt like a lifetime. He had to get to the others. He had to do something. 

On shaking legs he scrambled from his bed, stepping over the mess he had made on the floor and washed his body in the adjoined washing room, scrubbing at his skin until it was red and raw but the memory of touch persisted even has he slid into fresh clothes. His skin still felt like it was crawling, he wanted to claw at it until the memory went away, but he stayed his hands. 

To his dismay no one answered his knocks when he one after another paid a visit to his companions' rooms. They were deserted and the unease, which now followed him around wherever he went, intensified, turning into fear when a glance into the great hall did not reveal them either. Fandral caught a passing guard by the shoulder.

"Where is the prince of Asgard? Where are Lady Sif and my other companions?" He asked the man urgently. A slight trembling shook his limbs that he calmed with effort.

"The royal pair took them on a trip around our world. They thought it would interest the prince of Asgard to see the land he will soon do trade with." The guard answered cheerfully, unaware or willfully ignorant of the state Fandral was in, the trembling he must surely feel in the hand on his shoulder. Fandral took his hand back to his side and balled it into a fist. He glanced around but he could not see his assaulters but nonetheless he felt like he was being watched. It was like being hunted but you had nowhere to run and no means to fight back. 

"Please do not feel insulted, they meant no disrespect when they left you to sleep! They thought that since you were so busy the last nights they would let you rest." The guard said, apparently mistaking Fandral's silence for discontent, and had the nerve to wink at him. Busy. Fandral felt sick and swallowed back bile.

His heart raced and with has much dignity as he could excused himself with a tight smile, saying that he was still tired and needed a little more rest. The guard's smile widened and for one second Fandral imagined him being in on the assaults, a guard turning a blind eye would be useful, wouldn't it? Fandral exhaled and with a last distrusting look back he returned the way he had come but instead of stepping into his own chambers he took another door. It felt like eyes were following him until the door slammed shut behind him and he stood in Thor's quarters, more richly furniture than his own rooms, befitting royalty.

Fandral strode across the room to a plush looking chair and sunk down on it. The idea of sitting on a bed not his own made something in his stomach clench and he knew without a doubt that without the last days it wouldn't have been an issue. There was not much that indicated that Thor rested here for the course of their stay. Thor's chambers on Asgard would have been a different matter with the little, and big, trinkets from their hunts, the furs of beast they had killed themselves. This room on this strange world was nothing like that. It was a stranger's room that Thor only temporarily inhabited.

Fandral wished Thor was here, now, so that he could know that he was safe. No one would dare to touch the prince of Asgard and anyone who would dare would sooner, rather than later, feel the might of Mjolnir crush their bones. The thought made Fandral grimly pleased, but he quickly sobered. He would have to tread carefully when he asked the other about any 'unwanted advances' when he didn't want to blurt out what happened to him. A warrior of Asgard defeated by drugs in his drink and taken advantage of like a naïve young lad or maiden. He should have been more careful. 

He breathed out shakily and his stomach rumbled. His throat felt parched. The sickening taste of bile still coated his mouth and he was desperate for a drink.

At the door he looked outside and waved down a servant, placing an order for a drink. Now that he had a moment of quiet he felt on the verge of dehydrating, his stomach cramping in hunger. There was nothing to do but wait and he took the little plate the servant handed to him when he came back. 

Fandral placed the carafe and glass on Thor's nightstand and froze just as he wrapped his hand around it. What if… He took a step back and sat down heavily on the edge of Thor's bed. There could be anything in the drink. What if his attackers had waved the servant down as well, inquiring about the person who had sent the order? Someone had watched him, someone could have seen him enter Thor's room and maybe they knew that his companions were gone and he was alone. On that thought Fandral buried his head in his hands. He was desperate for a drink. He didn't know when Thor would return from the trip. 

In the silence of the room the curse that burst out of him sounded loud and ugly. He crossed the room and inspected the door. A moment later he chastised himself for his paranoia. 

This was Thor's room and he would have to return sometime. If someone would find him passed out and naked in Thor's room… great would be the shame and there would be no hiding from the questions that would arise.

Fandral raised the glass to his lips and let the water soothe his throat. It tasted sweet and refreshing and he felt instantly better afterwards. With a smile on his lips he let himself fall back on Thor's bed and closed his eyes. He dozed.

The sound of steps woke him and warmth, heat, flowing all throughout his body. Fandral became fully conscious with a gasp. The front of his pant was tented, his hard cock pulsed almost painfully, trapped by the fabric. His rapists stood around the bed in a half-circle and stared down at him with hungry eyes. A part of Fandral panicked in that moment but it was overlaid by a need so strong he had never felt anything like it. This was a different form of being trapped in his own head. His skin felt so tight Fandral wanted to claw at it. He wanted to touch himself, bring himself off again and again and again but not in front of them. Unfortunately he knew he would have no choice in the matter.

Fandral let out a cry of despair, small and weak, that little terrified part of him wrestling forward for only an instant, before his rapists descended on him. Their hands on him set his skin on fire. At the first touch he could feel himself coming, wetting the inside of his pants with come. Fandral sobbed and he didn't know which part of him that was, the terrified one or the one being overtaken by pleasure so strong it chased every other emotion away.

"No." He gasped out when he scraped his last resolve together. "Please, no." He begged but they only laughed, patting his ass, his side, anything they could reach. 

"You're such a sweetie, and so strong! Anyone else would have started begging for more already." They grinned, sharing a look among another and then they stripped him of his clothes, touching his skin and caressing back to hardness without touching his cock while he sobbed in pleasure or pain he didn't know. 

Time seemed to blur. He was naked. Someone was moving inside of him and his own moans and their grunts echoed in the room. 

"Why?" He choked out the question that had been on his mind ever since this ordeal had first started. 

A voice gasped in his ear, air brushing over his cheek on ever exhale. "Because you have such beautiful light hair, such blue eyes. It's a rarity here. We're lived in darkness so long." The man paused and a woman continued, gasping in pleasure and wiggling against Fandral's fingers in a way that made Fandral moan and made him sick to his stomach, pleasure and horror warring in his chest. "The darkness stripped everything light from our world and now you're here with your golden hair." She looked at him with a greedy expression in her eyes. "Not as golden as your prince." She sounded disappointed. A cold feeling settled in Fandral's stomach, mixing with the rage and fear and disgust at them and himself, almost making him gag. Fandral asked what had been swirling around his mind for a day now.

"Am I a replacement?" A cry escaped him when the cock in him brushed over that hidden spot, as the warm wetness spasmed around his own cock. They laughed and one kissed him on the mouth (to his shame he strained to follow her when she pulled away) before an erection was shoved down his throat, making him gag and moan both.

"Good thing you won't remember anything tomorrow. At least we can have something light in Thor's room even if we can't have Thor himself." Someone said and time blurred for Fandral again. 

Distantly he heard the sound of the door open while he had a different cock in his mouth, one in his ass and a soft body under him that he thrust into. Fandral didn't know how often he had come, he didn't knew much of anything anymore but a small part of him still wanted to scream and attack, rip the bodies around him apart for their arrogance but he could not muster enough strength of body or mind to follow through on that particular burning need.

It was morning when Fandral was shaken awake by a servant. The light fell through the window on a different angle than he had come to expect. Fandral jerked upright, sheets falling into his lap, gasping for breath like he had just been woken from a nightmare and in a way he had.

"Lord Fandral, you have to hurry. Your companions await you for your return to Asgard." The servant that urgently and Fandral stared at him in incomprehension. 

"It's still another day before we're supposed to leave." He said dumbfounded, another day of this nightmare his brain unhelpfully pointed out. The servant chuckled. 

"No, Lord Fandral. It's the day of your departure. You have been busy the last two nights." He beamed at him and Fandral fought the bile wanting to rise in is throat. Then he waved the servant away. His body felt sore for once but no bruises marred his skin. His mind was clear and he unlike the promise of his rapists he could remember everything, even though the last two nights and the day in between were hazy, blurred. Shaking himself out of his depressing thoughts he dressed and hurried to his companions. He would be glad to leave this world and never come back.

Thor was looking at him with an amused look on his face, shared by Volstagg. Hogun's face didn't give anything away and Sif looked at him in mild distaste. Fandral became aware of what he must look like to them. Hair wild and mussed, his whole appearance unkempt and he hadn't showered and cleaned himself since before the last two days. It was unlike him and he brushed a hand through his hair, suddenly self-conscious but he felt calmer, safer, in the presence of his companions, right before Thor opened his mouth. 

"I do not mind your lifestyle and you have stayed true to your image but please don't bring your companions for the night to my room again." His voice was not unkind, it was amused, chiding.

The others snickered and a cold weight, like lead, settled in Fandral's stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter isn't paced too fast. ^^

The mirror in his chambers reflected his face and Fandral watched it critically. His hair had grown longer but he couldn't muster the motivation to cut it or let it be cut by one of the maids. For a time he had considered cropping it shorter, making him bald, maybe, so he wouldn't have to look at the color anymore but something stayed his hand. He kept the beard, anything to not look younger or weaker. Dark circles were under his eyes, a present of long and countless nights tossing and turning. The nightmares wouldn't leave. Maybe some of the healer's potions would help him but he was reluctant to talk to them, lest others learn about the state he found himself in. They had drinks to make you sleep like the dead, but…no, he wouldn't make himself vulnerable. 

With sure, practiced movements Fandral concealed the dark circles under his eyes and the paleness of his skin, his sunken cheeks. He combed his hair into his usual style and forced the trademark smile on his face that would make any maiden or lad weak in the knees. 

***

The sun was setting on Asgard's horizon when Fandral kissed his ebony-haired lover of the night, who let out a moan as he entangled their tongues. They were pressed together from head to toe, legs entwined and the man's erection pressed into the Fandral's thigh. Obviously turned on, he rocked against Fandral with little needy whines escaping his throat, something that would have excited Fandral on any other time but his own cock was only half-hard. Something uneasy hid in the back of Fandral's mind, he could not put a name to but it lurked there ever since he had returned from that world he tried not to think of. Fortunately. Thor and his companions had not been called there again. Yet. Fandral shuddered and his lover of the night pulled back slightly to look at him with a concerned expression on his face.

"Are you alright, Fandral?" he asked. His voice was sweet and lovely to listen to. Fandral grinned at him, trying to push his unpleasant thoughts away, to the back of his mind, and stroked a hand down the smooth face in front of him. 

"Yes. Everything is alright." Fandral answered and leaned back in, resuming the kissing and sliding his hands down over the man's chest, his toned stomach and between his legs to touch his cock. The man moaned and gasped against Fandral's mouth. A hand snaked into Fandral's hair, gripping the strands, too tightly for Fandral's liking, and the man whispered against his lips. "You're so pretty." he said. "I love your hair."

It felt like Fandral had been doused with icy water. His chest felt tight and for just a moment he could not breathe. Then he pushed the man gently away from him. A hurt look crossed over his face as he stared at Fandral in incomprehension but Fandral couldn't look at him. Instead he swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood up, putting distance between them. 

"What is it?" the man demanded and Fandral felt sorry to have put hurt in his voice. Fandral dragged one of his hands over his face, turning his back on him. 

"It's nothing." he said and even to his own ears he sounded defensive so he hurried to add. "I probably drank too much and I'm not feeling well." Fandral turned around again to shoot the man an apologetic smile. "Maybe it's better if you left." he said and watched his lover's face closely, looking for something. He didn't even know what exactly he was looking for, but there was only disappointment on his face and a bit of sympathy. 

"Alright." the man said with a little smile that Fandral tried to return. Gracefully the man slid out of his bed and Fandral kept himself from crossing his arms over his chest while he watched the man get dressed. It was only when the man had closed the door behind him that Fandral felt like he could breathe freely again. Heavily he slumped onto the edge of his mattress and buried his head in his hands, gripping the strands of his hair and tugging until it hurt, grounding himself in reality again. 

Then he exhaled in a rush and let himself fall back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Carefully he kept his mind blank and any thoughts at bay. Maybe it would be for the best to sleep now. Tomorrow might be a better day. Fandral smiled without humor and crawled under his blanket without bothering to put on clothes. He closed his eyes. He turned on his side, then on his other. It felt like only a minute had passed before he was swinging his legs over the side of his bed again and when he looked out of his window up at the sky, the moon had not moved very far from its position. 

Slowly, Fandral put on his clothes since there was no need to hurry. He kept his mind blank as he wandered the halls of Asgard's palace, nodding to the guards on duty until he came upon the great hall where a feast was held in Thor's honor, having returned from a hunt successfully and with a new pelt from a dangerous beast to add to his collection. Lately it felt to Fandral like every night a feast was being held for one or another reason and every night that happened Fandral had to uphold his image of the lover of beautiful men and women. In the past that had never bothered him. 

Fandral let his gaze roam over the room from his place by the open gates. When Hogun waved him towards him he only hesitated a moment before he crossed the room and let himself fall gracefully into the chair beside him. Fandral grinned at Hogun and Hogun smiled back in the calm way of his. 

"That was pretty fast." Hogun commented out of the blue and Fandral looked at him in incomprehension. He had an inkling what his friend was talking about. Fandral shifted unobtrusively in his chair. Suddenly he wanted to be back in his room, tossing and turning on his bed and fighting to fall asleep. 

"What do you mean?" Fandral asked, feigning ignorance and let his hand move to Hogun's tankard, wrapping his fingers around it and raising it to his own lips. Hogun huffed in annoyance and waved for a servant to bring him a new glass. 

"You left with a quite handsome man not too long ago and now you're back here without him." Hogun said and sipped at his own, newly served drink. Fandral observed his face and smiled innocently. "Some things don't take long if they're done well." he said and grinned when Hogun snorted out a quiet laugh. 

"If you say so, Fandral." Hogun said good-natured and they fell into a comfortable silence, watching their fellow warriors drink and be merry. Hogun enjoyed the food and drink being served and Fandral pretended to do the same. Occasionally he snaked out a hand and let his fingers wander across the table to steal something from Hogun's dish and aimed for innocence whenever he was caught, doing the same with his friend's tankard.

All the while Fandral ignored the gaze that lay on him until he couldn't anymore. It was like an itch between his shoulder blades that he couldn’t shake off. 

Fandral turned his head slightly and locked eyes with Thor who raised his tankard in silent toast, a smile on his face and laughter lines around his eyes. The light of the candles seemed to shimmer on his golden hair - they had wanted that - and Fandral felt his smile freeze a little on his face as he raised his own stolen tankard in return. 

He wasn't sure if Thor had noticed his expression but his gaze stayed steadily on Fandral when he excused himself a while later to return to his quarters. 

***

Fandral was dreaming. His body moved restlessly against his sheets, little moans escaping his throat as he struggled against invisible hands, hands that were trying to hold him down. They slid over his skin, his chest, his cheek, his legs, his cock, pressing into him with thick and slender fingers while he begged them to stop.

Laughter came from men and women whose faces seemed to blur together until their features where indistinguishable, looking like one and the same over and over again but still a mixture of them all. They seemed happy, excited and greedy as they took advantage of him. His limbs felt so heavy he couldn't move them even after they had let him go. 

One of them, so androgynous he couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman leant in for a kiss and just before their mouth touched his and just as Fandral was about to scream for help, he woke up.

***

His sword clashed with Sif's upon the training grounds of the warriors' quarters. No one else was around as the sun was just rising. Fandral would never understand how Lady Sif loved to rise with the sun. He was prone to sleep in unless duty called but lately his sleep was restless and full of nightmares and fighting was a good distraction. They sprung a few feet apart and Fandral readied his sword for the next strike, dodging a swipe Sif aimed at him and countering. 

"You are more aggressive today. Distracted?" Sif mused as she blocked his sword with her shield, the sound of metal against metal rang loudly through the empty room, louder than usual. Fandral shrugged and grinned at her, forcing her to step back when he swiped at her legs. What was he even supposed to answer to that? 

"I'm all yours, milady." Fandral teased and laughed at the way Sif rolled her eyes in exasperation. The shock of his next blow, sword against sword, traveled up his arms and the look of concentration on Sif's face morphed into a frown. They were even in strength and skill. Sif's eyes narrowed and Fandral brought the blade of his sword up when Sif charged him, a second later he was empty-handed and his sword fell in a wide arch and clattered to the ground behind Sif. 

"You're lying." Sif accused him and let Fandral regain his sword. The joke he wanted to tell died on is lips when he turned around and, looking past Sif, saw Thor enter the training facilities. Fandral sobered, smile leaving his face.

"It is nothing." Fandral said to Sif. "It's only some bad dreams. Or are you worried about me?" he flirted and Sif snorted in distain. 

"You wish" she replied and greeted Thor with a nod when he stepped into her line of vision. Fandral had no doubt that she had already noticed Thor when he had entered. 

"Another round?" Sif asked gruffly and Fandral shook his head with a smile. 

"You have me beat for today, milady." He grinned and gave a nod in Thor's direction. "How about a match between you two instead?" he said and retreated to the side of the room to sit down on one of the benches that stood lined at the wall before Thor could greet him with a slap on the back.   
"Are you ready, Lady Sif?" Thor asked in his deep voice and Sif only grinned at him before she charged without answering, eyes flashing fiercely.

They were quite a sight to behold. Sif with her dark hair swinging around her slighter form. Quick and agile she dodged and blocked Thor's attacks and countered them skillfully while Thor was slower in his movements, but stronger. The sword he used for these types of sparring matches was heavier than her slender blade but it was of no use if he could not strike her. Light fell on his golden mane and made it gleam, making Fandral stare transfixed. He couldn't look away from the sight. This was what his rapists had wanted, this grace and force and glowing man. 

It was like Thor was made of light, with the sun reflecting of the metal of his armor and putting highlights in his hair as he moved, and Fandral was but a pale copy of him, a fuck toy used as substitution.

Abruptly, Fandral stood and left them to their sparring. He'd lost his mood for it for the day. 

***

Again Fandral dreamed of hands touching him, sliding over his bare skin, making him both want to scream and groan. This wasn't fair. He looked up at the faces above him that were pulled into grotesque masks of pleasure and joy, cruel and pleasant at the same time. There was a gleam of gold hair, broader and more calloused hands touching him. They were pressing him down as well while a thick cock pounded in him and Fandral was too weak to twist away, twist out of that powerful grip. 

With a jerk, Fandral came awake and he stared unseeing into the darkness of his room. His cock was jutting hard from his groin. He almost wasn't fast enough when bile filled his mouth and he twisted around and was sick over the edge of his bed. Fandral gagged a few times, stomach empty and tears gathered at the corners of his eyes from the effort. When he was done and his belly started to settle he rested his forehead against his sheets before he rose and cleaned the floor before any servant could discover his accident. 

***

The next few days passed in a blur of training and banter by day and uneasy sleep by night, only intercepted by a quest that brought them to Midgard. 

Now he sat in an Asgardian pub, far away from the palace, with his companions and celebrated the success of their stay on Midgard. A woman had planted herself in his lap, a beautiful, young thing with reddish hair and warm brown eyes. Her arms were wrapped around his shoulder to steady herself. Fandral pretended to take a sip of the brew that had been placed in front of him by a waiter and the woman leaned in to whisper into his ear. 

"Do you feel better?" she said and her palm slid over his cheek gently in a caress. Fandral's fingers tightened briefly where they were laying on her waist. His smile felt a little brittle on his face but a look into her eyes revealed that she didn't notice. 

"I'm ok." he said and took a tiny sip of his tankard, watching as she took it from his hand and drank from it herself with a cheeky twinkle in her eyes. Fandral rested a hand on her thigh and she placed the tankard back on the table. Boldly she kissed him and he cut back the undignified sound he wanted to make in surprise. His first instinct was to push her away but a glance at his friends changed his mind and he returned the kiss. The woman smiled happily against his lips and only pulled back slightly afterwards. Her breath washed over his cheek.

"Do you want to get out of here?" she whispered giddily and panic froze Fandral to his seat for a moment. He stared past her shoulder and locked eyes with Thor who stared back, slowly lowering his cup. Thor's brows drew together in a silent question and Fandral turned back to the woman. He could feel the eyes of his companions on him, waiting for his answer. The knowledge that he had a reputation to uphold made him feel sick.

"Sure." he drawled. "After you." Fandral steadied her as she got up with a happy smile on her face and hand in hand they disappeared up the stairs after Fandral had collected a key from the keeper of the facility. 

The woman, he had already forgotten her name, pulled him into the room and he wrapped her arms around her to lift her off her feet, making her squeal in delight. They kissed, stumbling on their way to the bed and he carefully laid her against the sheets. 

"Come on, my brave knight." the woman coaxed him and he smiled at her, winking. Fandral didn't want her, right now he didn't want anyone, but he leaned over her and put his hands on her dress, working on the strings that kept it close. He'd rather have a good spar with Volstagg or banter with Sif. 

"Why is women's wear always so complicated to open?" he complained good-naturedly and purposefully fumbled with the strings, making his companion laugh and reach up to help him, laying her hands over his. 

"Let me help you." she said, a smile on her face and amusement sparkling in her. Her dress fell from her shoulders and the fabric pooled around her waist. Fandral made sure to make his breath catch audibly, to let his gaze roam over her naked form in apparent appreciation. A blush was his reward and he smiled at her while his stomach rolled in disgust at himself. Would she still want to sleep with him if she knew how weak he was? 

"You're beautiful." he told her and leaned in, kissing her sweetly and letting her melt into his arms. 

"You're so handsome." she whispered between their lips when they parted for air. One of her hands tangled in his hair, through the light strands and Fandral hid his bitter grimace in her shoulder, nipping the skin there. Everyone seemed to like his hair lately. So much like Thor… he shoved the thought away and pulled the woman even closer to him, her breasts pressed against his chest. Fandral let the fingertips of his right hand trail lightly down the woman's arm, making her shudder when he kissed her. Slowly he lead her backwards until the back of her thighs connected with the bed and with a last nip at her lips he let her fall to the mattress, catching her at last second and forcing himself to laugh with her when she squealed in delight, her arms clutching his shoulders. She looked deeply into his eyes and together they sank on the bed at last. 

Her hands roamed over his body and she divested him of his clothes until they were both skin to skin with nothing keeping them apart, pressed together from chest to hip with Fandral lying between her thighs. 

Usually, at this point, Fandral would have taken his time, drawn it out until his lover of the moment would be strung out and begging him to make them come but tonight he was not in the mood. With a wicked smile he slid down her body, touching his fingers to her folds and making her gasp. He didn't touch her clit directly, knowing how oversensitive some woman could be and waited for her cue. He stroked his thumb in a circle around it and his fingers over her hole in teasing rubs. 

The woman squirmed against him and mewled, her thighs closing around his head as her pelvis pushed against his hands. 

"You're really good." she moaned and he thanked her, ever polite with a teasing smile on his face. He wanted to be somewhere else. His cock was flaccid where he was pressed to the mattress. At any other time the way the sounds the woman made would have excited him but not today. Today he had a duty to fulfill so when the woman dug her fingers into his hair and bowed her back he slipped a finger inside of her, searching out the spot that would push her that much faster to her height of pleasure. Unbidden his thoughts turned to the other people he had been to bed with, to that new young world, the way one of them had once ridden his face, pushing herself on his tongue while he had tried not to choke. Fandral flinched back and his mind cleared again. His lover hadn't noticed a thing, too lost in her pleasure and he pushed up to his knees when she urged him to. 

"Come on." she said impatiently, breathless. 

"Patience." he winked at her teasingly and she grinned back, none the wiser. Fandral kissed her to distract himself and tried to think of something that would get him hard enough to perform. 

His mind flipped through the usual fodder of fantasies for the times he laid hands on himself. The woman drew him forward by the hips and it reminded him of other hands that had dug their fingers into his skin, moving him this way and that as they pleased. Fandral shuddered and he pushed the memories away. He thought of broad shoulders and gentle hands and his cock hardened even as he imagined them pressing him down as he struggled against them. Fandral's breath quickened and the woman pulled him down by the neck. They kissed deeply and Fandral let himself be guided into her. When he bottomed out he waited before he began to rock into her. He tried not to think about how wrong his fantasy was but he could help himself. He felt dirty, disgusting.   
Fandral grit his teeth and moaned anyway, thrusting into the woman. He could feel his cock grow limp so he used his hand to aid her to orgasm, giving a groan of his own as she came. 

For a while he stayed lying on top of the woman, letting her stroke her fingers through his hair while he listened to her heartbeat. Then he let her get up, watching her dress herself. 

At the door she turned to look at him over her shoulder with a smile. 

"Thank you for the pleasant time." she said and left. Fandral's stomach churned and his face crumbled after she had gone. He wondered if every one of his lovers only took him for his looks. That had never bothered him before.

***

His dreams repeated themselves. The people in his bed laughed while they tore him apart, biting him, scratching him, caressing him until he was begging them to stop but they never did. 

"Why are you here when you don't like it?" they taunted him. "Why do you return?" Fandral could only repeat over and over again. "I had no choice." 

He sobbed. "Please, stop. Please, stop. Please, no." but they never listened. Instead they laughed harder, nails turned to claws and he woke up. 

A man was in bed with him tonight. He was handsome and looked concerned. His hand lay on Fandral's shoulder, resting there after he had shaken him awake. 

"Are you ok?" he asked and Fandral swallowed, nodded his head after taking a deep breath and letting it out again. 

"Yes. I'm alright." Fandral lied and forced a smile on his face. "It was just a silly dream." He leaned over to place a kiss on his bedmate's lips and tumbled him onto his back, climbing over him to chase any further questions from his mind. 

***

A few days later he woke up to yet another, different, woman in his bed, the memories of the night before hazy but by his own choice. Alcohol dulled his senses and kept the nightmares at bay, if only a little. He had to say it was harder to get drunk when you had to steal the drinks of your companions but it was worth it. It kept his mind of thinking and his image safe, if a little drunker than it was before. 

Quickly he kissed the woman and they helped each other from the bed on unsteady legs, laughing at their own clumsiness. After they were dressed they said goodbye on Fandral's door and their ways split. The woman walked in one direction and Fandral in the other. He would probably not see her again, except maybe for glimpses in the corridor. 

When Fandral turned around, Sif stood at his side and he jerked in surprise, letting out a startled yelp that made her smirk. 

"Had a good night?" she asked and fell into step beside him, observing him in the alert way that was her own. Fandral grinned at her. 

"Sure." he answered just a beat too slow and Sif arched an eyebrow at him but didn't ask. They walked in silence and Fandral was just about to open his mouth to make a lewd joke when Sif spoke. 

"Thor has a new hunt he wants to go on. A big scaly dragon this time. You're in?" she smirked again and Fandral grinned. 

"What better way to start a day than waking up with a pretty woman in your arms followed by a good hunt." he answered and Sif rolled her eyes. 

***

The dragon reared to his hind legs, exposing his belly for a moment. Whoever had said that a dragon's underbelly was vulnerable obviously had never seen a dragon in the flesh. Fandral dodged a stream of fire and laughed. Hunting was fun. He and his companions stood in a half-circle around the beast and for now Thor didn't use his hammer. Mjolnir swung at his belt because the fight would be over too soon if he used it; although, the dragon's hide was undoubtedly strong enough to resist one or two hits from Mjolnir but where would the excitement be in a hunt if the hunt in question was over too soon. 

Fandral's legs felt a little unsteady, a consequence of too little sleep and too much to drink, but he didn't complain. There had been time they had been on hunts drunk and everything had been fine. To his right, Sif danced out of reach of a dragon's claw as it fell back on all fours, cutting its scales with her sword. The dragon opened its maw wide with a glow forming at the back of its throat. 

"Uh oh!" Volstagg shouted behind him and Fandral laughed in delight when he dodged the fire, jumping to the side and forward again to catch the side of the dragon's snout. The dragon roared and snapped at him but before it could reach him an arrow lodged itself in his eye and with another mighty roar of pain it backed up again. Its tail swung from side to side in agitation, one eye was shut and blood sloshed down the side of its head. Its other eye was fixed on them maliciously and with a quick movement it battered a claw at Fandral in a faint as at the same time its tail swung around and swept both Hogun and Volstagg who had stood close together off their feet. 

Fandral laughed again, hearing Thor do the same, and got ready to step out of the way of the dragon's claw that was aiming at him. From the corner of his eye he could see Thor swiping at the dragon's hide with his borrowed sword, Sif doing the same on its other side while Hogun and Volstagg were no doubt trying to get back to their feet behind the dragon.

The dragon's maw opened again, emitting a fiery jet that almost got Fandral and suddenly Fandral's legs buckled under him. It was only a second, a quarter of a second but it was enough that the next time the dragon snapped its head forward it did not miss. Its jaw closed around Fandral's midriff before he had taken more than a step, the teeth sinking into his flesh, right through his armor and Fandral cried out in pain. The dragon shook his head from side to side, growling, jarring its teeth deeper and then threw him to the side.

Fandral was thrown against one of the nearby mountainsides and everything went black. He didn't even feel himself hit the ground or the angry roar Thor emitted as he charged the beast with Mjolnir in his hand. Sif and Hogun came to his aid, forming a half-circle around his body to protect him from further harm but Fandral had lost consciousness already. 

***

Hands were holding him down again in this dream and Fandral struggled. He hurt all over and he couldn't open his eyes. Everything was dark around him. He cried out in fear. Distantly he could hear himself pleading but no one replied, no one laughed. Everything was silent except for his own voice. Then someone soothed him. A hand stroked over his cheek and forehead and it felt different than the other times. 

The hands gentled on his body, just holding onto him for a moment and the dream grew muted, fuzzier until everything faded once more. 

"You're safe, Fandral." A voice whispered to him from far away. 

***

The next time Fandral woke up he was back in his own room with the curtains drawn, which cast the room into darkness but it was comfortable. For the first time in days, Fandral felt rested. He swung his legs over the side of the bed. Dizziness made his legs almost buckle under him but he stood, raising a hand to the back of his head and feeling a lump. Now that he focused more on the state of his body, he could feel a light, dull throb in his side and back and he pulled up the edge of the shirt he couldn't remember putting on. Right. The dragon. In a rush the memories came back to him. They had fought a dragon and the puncture wounds on his belly, no doubt mirrored on his back, were the best evidence of it. He had been thrown against some rocks. Fandral rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. What a stupid mistake he had made. No wonder his head still throbbed but otherwise he still felt rested. 

Luxuriously he stretched his arms, letting a couple of vertebrae pop, and winced when the motion pulled at his wounds. He scratched the skin on his belly and pulled open the curtains. Outside the sun was falling and a knock sounded at his door. Fandral flinched a little and scolded himself for it. In Asgard he was safe, he reminded himself and moved to open the door. 

His friend Volstagg was on the other side, a smile gracing his face and a good-natured twinkle in his eyes. 

"How are you feeling?" he asked, eyes lingering on Fandral's face, and Fandral grinned at him, it was genuine for once. 

"Very good, my friend. What happened after I was out?" he replied and leaned against his doorframe, not inviting Volstagg to enter.

"Thor knocked the dragon over with Mjolnir and after Sif sliced of its head as a trophy, we called on Heimdall to bring us back to Asgard." Volstagg grinned back, fingering his beard with his left hand. 

"A feast has been called in our honor," he continued and added after a moment of uneasy silence. "I've never seen you knocked out so quickly…" he let it hang in the air between them and Fandral felt something inside his chest freeze. A lump constricted his throat and he swallowed with difficulty. 

"It was bad luck and carelessness." Fandral said at length, forcing the words out around the lump. "It's nothing, Volstagg." he assured him and turned up his grin. "I'll be right there at the feast as always. A little knock on the head won't keep me down." he joked in the face of Volstagg's frown and Volstagg broke in a grin of his own, slapping Fandral's shoulder so hard he almost toppled over.

"We'll be waiting." he said and left Fandral to clean up and make himself presentable. When Fandral took a bath and put on new clothes he avoided the mirrors but he felt his ribs under his hands while he washed his chest. 

***

At the feast Fandral sat with his friends and kept stealing food from their plates; none of them stopped him. Some of his old appetite had returned overnight, his stomach was grumbling and he eyed Sif's food mournfully. With a disgusted sigh, Sif shoved the plate at him and took another. Fandral could swear that there was a bit of fondness in her eyes as well, so he wolfed down her food with a grin on his face. His eyes fell on Thor who was sitting opposite him at the wide table and some of his good mood vanished when he saw the frown on his face. Thor's eyes were narrowed in suspicion, making Fandral uneasy. He swallowed the last of the food and leaned back in his chair, waving away a woman that had wanted to talk to him. Instead he looked back at Thor until he opened his mouth.

"How is your head?" Thor asked him and leaned his arms on the tabletop. Fandral did the same, bringing them closer together.

"My head has seen better days." he answered with a light smile on his face, which faded a little when Thor kept frowning.   
"Have you been able to rest?" Thor asked and his boot accidentally bumped against Fandral's under the table. Fandral pulled back his feet. 

"I have slept well," Fandral answered. "Better than I have in a while," he added before he could stop himself. Fandral held his breath, looking into Thor's eyes, holding his gaze until Thor looked away. For a moment Thor had looked like he had wanted to say something but had changed his mind. The tightness in Fandral's chest loosened slightly when Thor changed the subject.

They spend the rest of the night talking and Fandral took no one to his quarters. 

***

This night there were no nightmares coming to haunt him. He slept peacefully until morning, dreaming of gold hair and lightning. 

***

The next few weeks it was like a switch had been flipped inside of his head. There were no sharp remarks made by his friends as the number of lovers he took dwindled. Fandral wasn't sure if they even notice but whichever it was, he was glad for it. 

It almost felt good not to be reminded of that other world by the touch of strangers on his skin. 

The dreams, though, never left him and Fandral waited for the other shoe to drop. He couldn't quite believe that this high would last. Something began coiling in his chest like a snake, ready to snap. 

***

It was Hogun of all people that tipped the balance with a careless remark. They sat together in a pub off-world like they were bound to do some days and Fandral had brushed off every woman and man that had showed an interest in him, deciding he rather preferred the company of his friends over some stranger. 

"It seems like you're losing your touch. Have you decided to become celibate?" Hogun said as he took a sip of the brew they served in this house, and it was like Fandral had been doused with ice, freezing him in place. It had been a joke. No doubt it had been a joke but from the corner of his eyes Fandral could see others taking an interest in their conversation. Volstagg, Sig and Thor listened very carefully. Fandral conjured a brittle grin and tried not to avoid Hogun's eyes like a skittish animal. Show no weakness, he told himself. You've waited too long to tell them and now it's too late, he chided himself and took a drink from his tankard, Volstagg's tankard to be exact, to buy himself some time to figure out an appropriate answer.

"I raised my standards." he answered eventually, aiming for a joking tone of voice and internally winced. To his luck Hogun laughed and the others turned back to their own conversations. Fandral felt sick to his stomach. Thor kept glancing his way, not one for subtlety and when a woman, visibly more beautiful than the rest, approached him with a flirtatious smile and drew him into a conversation he didn't resist. An hour later they took the steps up to the second story and into an empty room and Fandral tried not to be sick. His stomach was rolling with dread and nothing the woman did could ease it. 

Her hands felt wrong on his skin as they undressed, but he kissed her anyway, licking into her mouth. The strings of her dress easily gave way under his skilled fingers and the fabric pooled on the floor. She was gorgeous but Fandral would have preferred to sit with his friends or go home. His own quarters were where he most wanted to be right now, to be able to lock the door would have been a luxury along with being utterly alone. 

Fandral pushed through his discomfort and the want to push the woman from him. Without meaning to he evaded her eyes. Her nails dug into the skin on his arm and he did the best he could not to flinch. In any other situation he might have found her scent enticing but right now the smell of flowers seamed to clog up his airways, making it hard to breathe. Her breath washed over his cheek and he recoiled, turning his face away. The hand on his arm tightened. His mind interpreted that as threatening and he pushed her from him, breathing hard. 

He turned away from her and wiped a hand over his face. 

"Please go." he pressed out in a clipped voice and she molded herself to his back, hands slipping over his stomach. 

"What is wrong?" she asked sweetly and something short-circuited in Fandral's head. Rage colored his vision red. He didn't know where it came from so suddenly but he whirled around.

"I said go!" he screamed at her, hands balling into fists at his side, and with a shocked expression on her face she staggered back, almost stumbling over her dress. Quickly she snatched it up and without looking back at him she ran from the room. When she was gone Fandral's legs buckled under him and he sat heavily on the bed, placing his head in his hands. 

Stupid. He had been stupid. He had been too quick to accept his good mood and now he realized that it had only been a short respite. Such an idiot he'd been. His fingers dug in his hair and he almost pulled out a few strands when a knock on the open door startled him. Right. He had forgotten to close it after the woman. Another stupid move. 

"Are you alright, Fandral?" Thor asked and when Fandral didn't answer he stepped inside and closed the door behind himself. 

"Did something go wrong?" Thor asked and Fandral could only shrug tiredly. 

"Please go, Thor." he said. He couldn't make his voice rise above a mutter, rubbing the ball of his thumb over one eye in fatigue. Instead of leaving, Thor stepped closer but Fandral didn't look at him. He didn't want to know what expression Thor would find on his face. 

"When you were at the healers," Thor said into the silence, "you struggled against them and begged them to stop." 

For a moment Fandral forgot how to breathe. A small sob left him and dug his fingers into his eyes to keep from crying. Thor's gaze lay heavy on him. 

"What did that mean?" he continued when it became clear that Fandral wouldn't elaborate on his own. Fandral laughed weakly. He was tired, tired to the bone. All he wanted was to sleep and forget but he made himself look at Thor. The look of worry and patience on Thor's face wasn't quite what he had expected, although he wasn't sure why. Thor's time on Midgard had changed him, making him calmer and wiser. Now he was patiently waiting for Fandral to answer him. 

A minute ticked by, then another. 

Then everything poured out of him like a dam had broken, and while he spoke Thor's expression darkened, thunder rumbled in the distance. When he was done Fandral looked at Thor, awaiting his reaction.

Thor took a deep breath, his face livid and Fandral jump up when Thor turned on his heel, ready to storm from the room. 

"Wait!" he called out, because that expression on Thor's face was the same he had when he was going to do something stupid, like run into battle without thinking.

"I will destroy them!" Thor shouted, grip white-knuckled on Mjolnir's handle and Fandral could feel himself shaking his head even though he would have loved nothing more than to run into battle alongside him. But rational thought prevailed, unfortunately.

"No, you won't!" he said and pulled him back, flinching when Thor turned on him. All the rage left Thor at once when he saw Fandral cower away. 

"I'm sorry." Thor said, anger still simmering under the surface, badly veiled, and Fandral sunk back on the bed wearily. 

"Don't get me wrong, I would like nothing more than to destroy them." he assured Thor. "But Odin will never allow it." Thor looked like he wanted to argue but after a while his shoulders sagged. 

"What can I do?" he asked and he sounded so sincere Fandral looked at him in surprise. 

"I don't know," Fandral said, looking down at his hands. "But I might come to you when I can think of something." 

He looked ruefully up at his prince who nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first draft of the third chapter is done, but I'm not really satisfied with it yet. It will be posted in two to three weeks.


	3. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this story. I hope it is a worthy one.
> 
> A giant THANK YOU goes to my betas who helped me a lot with this last bit. :D

“What has you so deep in thought?” 

The words compelled Fandral to look to the side, away from Thor, who he’d been watching as unobtrusively as possible, and to where Volstagg was sitting beside him with his axe lying across his lap and a rag in his hand for cleaning the blade. His eyes were worried but calm. Fandral felt guilty for putting that look there, especially since it was only his own incompetence of maintaining his carefree attitude that made his companion suspicious. 

The others didn’t look up, focused on their own weapons, which they were cleaning, and quietly talking to each other. Hogun was fastening a new string on his bow while Fandral struggled for a suitable, non-worrying answer. Outside their little bubble of privacy the sound of steel on steel carried to them, alongside the laughter of Asgard’s soldiers and the dull sound of arrows meeting their wooden targets.

“Trouble with a lover?” Sif mused, looking sideways at Fandral who forced himself to shrug carelessly, seeing Thor’s face darken in his periphery, courtesy of his discomfort about Fandral lying to their friends, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell them. He wasn’t ready, wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready, wasn’t even sure if he wanted to be ready. 

“You could say that.” Fandral lied. “I got one who is rather jealous. I’m just trying to think of a way to let her down gently.” He winked at Sif. “Maybe you should pass yourself off as my spouse.” he flirted and chuckled when Sif rolled her eyes and huffed.

“You wish!” she said and the others laughed at her mock offence. Then they all turned back to their weapons and Fandral almost sighed in relief when that stopped the questions. 

Internally Fandral wanted to scream at them for believing him so easily. It should have been obvious to them. That’s how it felt to him anyway. He always felt like he was shaking, like the smallest sudden noise would make him jump. His hands were sweaty and all the while Thor looked so damn calm, like he didn’t know, or didn’t care, that he was going to fuck Fandral tonight. 

***

The place was empty except for guards, for which Fandral was grateful. Outside, night had fallen over Asgard and the sky was overcast. Everyone respectable was in bed, be that their own or another’s, but he wasn’t respectable, walking to their prince’s chambers to ask unspeakable things of him, things that no one but the prince’s wife should ask of him.

His footsteps echoed when he walked down the corridor towards Thor's room and he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling, like he was walking to his own execution. Fear, with hints of panic, warred with a tiny sliver of hope in his chest. Hope for what he wasn’t sure. Healing? He snorted soundlessly to himself. Yeah, right. 

For a moment he stopped, ignoring the curious glances two guards threw his way. Should he do this? What did he expect Thor to do what he couldn’t do himself? Should he demand that Thor heal him like it was even possible to be healed? Like there was anything worth healing. Fandral was inclined to just turn on his heel and return to his quarters. But what then? The last months had been a nightmare, starting with their stay on that world and so far he hadn’t done so good himself. His clothes hung too loose on his too narrow frame and he knew it.  
With Thor he would have to make himself vulnerable. A frightening thought.

"Lord Fandral, may we help you?" one of the guards addressed him and Fandral forced a friendly smile on his face so as to not get more uncomfortable questions about his well-being. 

"There is no need. I'm alright." Fandral replied, resuming his way before the other guard could say something as well. Best not linger anywhere at all. Fandral had no desire to explain himself, not now while fear was so predominant and making it harder to hold onto his happy mask. 

In front of Thor's bedroom door he took a deep, steadying breath and let it out in a long exhale. Unfortunately it didn't do anything against the tension in his breast. It was like a steel band was tied around his chest that was pulled tighter and tighter the longer he waited. Then he knocked before he could change his mind, balling his hands into fists when he noticed his hands shaking. Gods he was always shaking it seemed.

"Come in." Thor called from inside and Fandral entered. Maybe he should have waited or should have come sooner because Thor was standing in his sleep pants at the fireplace, warming his hands and the flames cast distracting shadows on his bare chest, putting a warm glow to his skin. Considering what Fandral was about to propose the whole setup felt like a mockery. Fandral swallowed to wet his suddenly dry throat. In the past he had noticed Thor's looks of appreciation and Fandral had returned them. He wasn't blind, nor was he shy, and Thor was a fine specimen of a man but now… everything was different. He couldn’t appreciate the view like he used to, before.   
There was a lot he would have done before.

A peculiar thought crossed his mind. He wished that Thor was wearing a little more. Stupid, considering what they were going to do, what he wanted them to do.

"What can I do for you, Fandral?" Thor asked, bringing Fandral out of his brooding. Fandral looked at him, startled. 

"May I sit?" Fandral asked even though it was the last thing he wanted to do right now, but maybe he should just get it over with. His voice was steady, betraying none of his emotions. Thor gestured to one of the chairs at the fireplace, remaining in front of the warming fire himself. 

Walking across the room, Fandral felt like a stranger. He had been here a hundred times before, but today it was different. He could count on one hand how often he had been as scared as he was now.   
Gingerly, feeling skittish, he sank into the soft seat so he wouldn’t be as inclined to bolt, hopefully. With the cackling of the fire, the flickering lights and warmth and the soft cushion under him it could have been a comfortable atmosphere if it weren’t for what he would ask of Thor. 

"Maybe you should take a seat as well," Fandral said carefully, laying his hands into his lap because he didn't know what to do with them, and Thor did so with a guarded expression on his face. 

"How can I help you?" Thor repeated, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. He sounded earnest. 

"Did you mean it? That you would do anything?" Fandral countered, sounding more rash than he intended, but desperate to get this over with. Distantly he noticed that he was wringing his hands nervously and made himself stop. He wasn’t some skittish maiden, he scoffed at himself. Thor looked steadily at him, making Fandral squirm under his gaze and not even noticing it, before he calmly answered.

"Yes. I stand by my word." 

A broken laugh escaped Fandral before he could stop himself. On Thor's face a worried expression chased away the calm but he didn’t speak. 

"Anything? Are you sure? Anything is a lot to promise." Fandral said sharply, suddenly angry, but not directed at anything in particular. 

"Yes." Thor repeated steadily. "I know what I'm offering and I stand by my word. Ask of me what you need." he said, leaning back in his chair.

With difficulty Fandral got himself under control, digging his nails into the soft upholstery when they trembled, again. 

"Would you fuck me?" he blurted it out so it hung awkwardly between them, like ripping out an arrow. There was nothing for it. Thor had asked and Fandral had answered, that was what his friend deserved of him. Opposite him Thor looked somewhat surprised. 

"I would have thought you would ask me to destroy that world." he said, puzzled, and Fandral smiled, half in affection, half in bitterness. 

"Nothing would please me more." Fandral growled and sighed, closing his eyes wearily. Yes, he would like that. "But it would be foolish. The future king of Asgard cannot afford to be foolish and risk losing an ally just because one of his servants has been hurt." he continued and jerked back in surprise when Thor's face changed, anger written all over it and he jumped up from his seat. 

"Don't talk of yourself as a mere servant." he shouted and started pacing in front of the fireplace. 

"You are my friend and my equal, one of my most loyal warriors. Do not speak so lowly of yourself, please." he growled and just like that the fight seemed to go out of him until his last request was nothing more than a plea. "I know that you speak the truth." he added begrudgingly. "Nevertheless would I like to destroy them for their treachery." Thor smiled lightly, wistfully, and sat back down in the chair opposite Fandral, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and fixing his blue eyes on Fandral’s face.

"Since I am not allowed to destroy them, what do you need me to do? Indeed I would lie with you."

Fandral let out a breath he hadn't been aware he had been holding. After all this time it was still strange to see how much his stay on Midgard had changed the golden prince. It was a little like all the breath had been punched out of Fandral, like he had tried to break into a door that was being opened at the last minute just to leave him sprawling. He had expected there to be a little more objections instead of this easy acceptance, although he figured it was no hardship to lie with him. Many had done so already after all. 

"I- uh.." Fandral stuttered and internally cursed himself. Normally he was known for being charming and well-spoken, not some bumbling fool who didn't know what he wanted or how to ask for it and all throughout Thor just calmly and encouragingly looked at him. Fandral began to hate that look.

"I want to take control." Fandral finally said and continued when Thor tilted his head in silent question. "For example riding you and tying you down." He might have been imagining it but it looked like there was a slight blush coloring Thor's cheeks and an answering warmth in Fandral's face. Usually everything Fandral did with his lovers happened in the heat of the moment; no plan to it. To speak about such things now without anyone being naked was awkward at best. 

"Ok." Thor agreed after a beat of silence. 

"How can you agree so readily?" Fandral protested and now it was his turn to jump up and pace across the room, both of his hands buried in his hair and bringing it into disarray. Thor's eyes followed him. "You don't know what else I could want to do to you. I could hurt you!" Thor's next words stopped him in his steps.

"I trust you," he simply said and Fandral looked at him in disbelief. Fandral didn't even trust himself! A part of him wanted to call Thor naïve; another was envious of the faith that was shown to him. "And we can use, what did Darcy call it once, a safe word? A word to signal if one of us wants to stop." he continued and a snort escaped Fandral. 

"You talked to Darcy about sex?" he asked, smiling despite the anger still rolling through him, and Thor nodded earnestly, grinning sheepishly. 

"It was quite enlightening." Thor sounded wistful and Fandral wondered how that particular conversation had gone. Maybe sexual practices on Midgard worked differently than they did on Asgard.

"Do you want to start today?" Thor asked and Fandral shook his head in the negative. 

"No." he said. "No, that wouldn't be... right." Fandral continued. "Can we begin tomorrow?" Now that Fandral had found help he wanted to get rid of the nightmare he seemed to be trapped in as fast as possible. 

Thor rose gracefully and stepped to Fandral's side, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder and looking down at him. 

"Of course." 

***

Fandral hurried back to his domain trying not to run so as to not draw unwanted attention to himself. He kept his eyes fixed on the ground in front of his feet, not meeting anyone’s gaze that he happened to come across (blessedly few considering the time of night). He saw the dark, big shape on the ground and stopped before he could walk into Volstagg. 

“What has you in such a hurry, friend?” the big warrior boomed and Fandral smiled weakly, keeping himself from looking behind him to gauge the guards’ expressions. He felt like he had drawn enough unneeded attention in recent times, not behaving as was expected of him.

“It’s nothing.” Fandral assured him and it came to him that he might have been saying that too much in recent times. The phrase was bound to grow stale so he hurried to add: “I just had trouble with a lover. The girl failed to tell me she was engaged and… you know how it is. I should probably run to my quarters lest I find myself with a sword in uncomfortable places.” He grinned sheepishly and Volstagg broke into loud laughter and the pat he introduced to Fandral’s shoulder nearly sent him sprawling.

“That’s the Fandral I know!” Volstagg grinned and Fandral shared into the amusement. “Now better run along before he finds you.” He said and Fandral nodded cheekily before rushing off down the hall. The guards he passed looked to be just as amused, not suspicious and Fandral sighed in relief. His image proved useful after all. No one was questioning his story, didn’t question why he was out and about at night and no one asked why he was so close to the prince’s quarters. Especially since something like in that lie had happened to him once or twice in the past.

***

In his bed Fandral lay staring at the ceiling, still disbelieving that Thor had agreed so easily to his request. The mattress was soft and comfortable under him, the door was locked and he could relax. Tension that had built up in his muscles over the day slowly seeped out of him. Fandral tried to imagine what would happen. 

In his mind they would be naked, with himself sitting astride Thor who had his arms raised over his head and his wrists tied securely to the headboard. The thought sparked excitement in Fandral, to see the golden prince strung up like that, waiting for what Fandral had planned for him. At his mercy. His cock hardened in his sleep pants, even though that last thought made him uneasy. His hand snaked almost without conscious thought down his belly, over the fabric of his sleepwear. Thor might pull at the restraints to test how well they would hold. He would look up at Fandral and let his gaze roam over his body. Fandral could admit to himself that he had fantasized once or twice what having a tumble between the sheets would be like with the prince, to have that strong man over him or beneath him. Fandral's hand wrapped around his cock and he hissed at the feeling, closing his eyes to better concentrate on the image in his mind. 

Thor's golden hair would spill over his pillow, sweat would make his skin glisten in the light of the fireplace beside the bed and he would look up at Fandral with desire. The image made Fandral feel powerful, like he could do anything, like he could decide to pleasure or hurt. A short moment after that realization he felt sick to the core. He let his hand slacked around his cock. 

Had his rapists had fantasizes like that about Thor? Just before they settled on Fandral because of their likeness in hair color? The image in Fandral's mind changed to Thor struggling in earnest against his bond, but unable to break them. Fandral had tied him up too well. There was no pleasure on his face, instead he looked unhappy, scared. He looked at Fandral in betrayal and Fandral sat up in bed, shaking off the fantasy and gasping. His cock wilted in his hand and disgusted he took his hand away. 

Maybe he was no better than them after all. 

***

At the evening diner the following day Fandral’s meal was turning cold while he stared at it with dark rings under his eyes that no one could see through his make-up. The others were eating with gusto and he couldn’t even muster the strength to pick at his food in pretense. He couldn’t concentrate on the plate in front of him, head still filled with the nightmares of the night. His appetite was non-existent, but his stomach was twisting painfully in hunger. His weak, weak body. He cursed himself for his distrust and his own sick fantasies regarding Thor. Thor, who was sitting beside him and nudging him with his elbow unobtrusively while he joked with Hogun.

Fandral made an effort to make light conversation, joking with Volstagg and teasing Sif just to see the former laugh and the later roll her eyes. The smile on his face felt wooden but he was sure that it looked genuine enough outwards. At least no one commented if they noticed anything strange. Thor looked thoughtful tonight, serious. His eyes rested every so often on Fandral. Without commenting he pushed his plate lightly towards Fandral and Fandral gratefully dug in when his stomach growled, sound drowned out by the noise of the mess hall. When Fandral reached for Thor’s drink Sif looked at him scrutinizing across the table, but she didn’t ask. Instead she turned away as if she hadn’t seen it. Fandral was glad for her discretion and bumped Thor’s shoulder with his own in thanks. Something eased in his chest. 

***

Fandral lightly knocked on the door to Thor's room, silently berating himself for doing it so timidly. The ease that had returned to him at diner had vanished without a trace, being replaced with tension. For the last couple of minutes he had been standing in front of Thor’s room. At least Thor had sent the guards away so no one was around to see his failings. He was a son of Asgard and shouldn't be this scared; a fight to the death would have been less frightening than facing Thor and what they were going to do. There was so much that could go horribly wrong.

At Thor's call, he entered. The room was lightened again by the fire burning in the fireplace and candles on the wall. It was a cozy atmosphere but Fandral still felt shaken. His hands were trembling and he balled them into loose fists at his side. What was the worst that could happen? He asked himself sarcastically. 

"You're safe here, Fandral." Thor said and Fandral almost jumped in surprise, somehow he'd lose some time and had almost forgotten that Thor was here. Fandral silently cursed himself. Of course he was here, it was his room after all. 

"I'm fine." Fandral said more tersely than he wanted to, trying to cover up his misstep, but Thor didn't comment on it. Instead he came to his side and put a calming hand on his shoulder. The prince was smiling reassuringly. Fandral didn’t feel reassured. 

"What do you want me to do?" Thor asked and Fandral shrugged, shoulders tense. He wanted to shake off Thor's hand, suddenly not sure if his plan was so smart, but he didn't want to back down now and disappoint his prince. Fandral took a steadying breath and looked Thor squarely in the face, keeping himself from letting his gaze skitter to the side. In nature you weren’t supposed to look the predators in their eyes, but Fandral refused to be prey. 

"Undress and lay on the bed," he growled and added "please." after a pause. To his surprise Thor did so without question, still so calm, even though his cheeks were colored a light reddish tone. Fandral wondered. Would he have stayed so calm before his stay on Midgard? 

When Fandral let his eyes sweep the room again he noticed the pile of rope lying unobtrusively beside the bed and shuddered, looking away again quickly to keep the memories at bay and his eyes fell on Thor who was standing before him in all his naked glory. Without his permission he let his gaze roam down Thor’s body, over his muscled chest to his groin, to where his dick lay among golden hair. He was quite big.

"Ok." Fandral said dumbly, overwhelmed in the face of reality and what they were about to attempt. "Ok." he repeated with a little more confidence, shaking off his nervousness. It wasn’t his first time and he refused to feel like an inexperienced virgin. 

"Ok." Thor echoed and they broke into laughter at their shared awkwardness.

"Lie down on the bed and make yourself comfortable." Fandral said with a smile, ignoring the nervous rolling of his stomach, and watched the way the muscles of Thor's body moved as he walked across the room and laid down among the sheets on his back, casually crossing his hands over his head like he had done this a hundred times already. Fandral didn’t know enough about his sexual experiences to judge whether or not he had really done this before. It was hard to think. Then he looked at Fandral, who gulped. 

"It's alright. Come here." Thor said gently. Fandral stared at him for another moment before he could make his legs move. He walked over to the bed and ignored the trembling of his hands, his arms, his whole body, as he picked up the rope and let it slide through his fingers once to feel the surface. It was smooth and hopefully wouldn't chafe Thor's skin. If he didn’t struggle he would be alright. Fandral nearly broke into mad laughter, biting his bottom lip to keep it in. Then he carefully tied the rope around Thor's wrists, rubbing his fingers over Thor’s pulse carefully. Once, he grabbed Thor’s hands, laying his own against them palm to palm and interlacing their fingers while he stared down in Thor’s upturned face. He looked calm, trusting, and Fandral gave into the urge to lean down and press their lips together. Before he secured the rope to the headboard he squeezed Thor’s hands a last time and then stepped back. 

He felt like his heart was beating so loudly Thor must be able to hear it, too, but if he did, he didn't comment. Instead he laid there, closed his eyes and breathed deeply. There was no nervousness in the lines of his body. He was completely relaxed. Fandral was jealous.

“Your turn now.” Thor whispered and opened his eyes to look at Fandral who nodded jerkily. Yes, his turn. Right. He took a deep breath and piece by piece he slowly stripped, keeping his eyes two inches down of Thor's chin so as to not look at him as he revealed his body. He knew he was thinner than a few weeks ago, ribs prominent and belly a little more concave than was healthy. His nightmares made it hard to eat afterwards, as did his experience with poisoned food. 

He heard Thor huff and Fandral looked up. The expression on Thor's face was pained as he looked upon Fandral's body and Fandral's hands twitched on the fabric of the pants he still held in his hands. Getting dressed again sounded like a great idea all of the sudden. 

"Don't. Don't cover up again." Thor said, no doubt having seen the gesture for what it was. Fandral looked away. He just wanted to get dressed again. It had been a while since anyone had looked at him in disgust. 

"Just come here." Thor said, tugging at the restraints like he wanted to reach for him. "Everything is fine." Fandral nearly snorted in laughter but he held it down. He had a feeling it would sound rather hysterical. Nothing was fine at all. With none of his previous lovers he had been this nervous or this self-conscious, maybe, because hiding had been easier then. He let his pants fall to the floor and put one knee on the bed, climbing on top of Thor and straddling him. 

He felt kind of silly with Thor's bulky form forcing him to spread his thighs wide. Too open and exposed. It felt like his skin was crawling and his hole clenched at the closeness of Thor's cock. Fandral shuffled a little higher, sitting on Thor's stomach and looked down. 

Thor was looking up at him, breathing a little heavier and pupils slightly dilated. It was strange, seeing Thor like this. At his mercy.

“You are handsome.” Thor assured him and Fandral smiled bitterly. He wondered if there was any invisible mark to show that he’d been defiled against his will. He doubted it but he could feel it anyway. The hands of his rapists were still on his skin, always. 

Fandral put his hands on Thor's chest and slid them over the smooth skin, feeling his nipples pebble under the ministration of his fingers. It felt good, having that powerful body under him and hearing the little hitches in his breath and the way Thor moved into his hands. Fandral rubbed against the flat lines of Thor's stomach but it didn't feel right. Everything was too sudden, no lead up and while Thor was nice and warm under him Fandral's cock didn't get more than half-hard. 

Maybe he should have waited, kissed a little before tying him up. Let himself be touched, anything.

Somehow he had thought it would be easier with Thor, with someone knowing. He could feel Thor's cock press against his ass and it made his skin crawl. A lump formed in his throat and abruptly Fandral leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Thor's chest in frustration. His legs twitched and he tensed.

"What is wrong?" Thor asked quietly, worry evident in his voice. Fandral could only shake his head, for a moment unable to speak. He punched the mattress beside Thor’s hip. 

"I- I can't." Fandral mumbled, muffled against Thor's skin. "I can't get hard." Fandral repeated louder at Thor's "what?" of confusion. He kept his burning face turned away. Thor squirmed under him and Fandral could hear the headboard creak.

"Damn." Thor simply said, obviously at a loss of words. A deep breath lifted Fandral up and Thor let it out again in a long exhale. "Untie me, please." he continued after a while, sounding apologetic, for what Fandral didn’t know, and Fandral complied without looking at him. They laid down beside each other, a foot of space between them. 

"This didn't go as planned." Fandral said sullenly into the silence, eyes fixed on the ceiling and blanket thrown over his body in lieu of protection. He flinched away when Thor tried to touch him and Thor retreated. 

"No." he agreed. "What do we try next?" The light of the fire danced across his naked chest while he laid on his back, shoulders tense and sheet thrown over his groin. Fandral wished they were both clothed, maybe it wouldn’t make him feel as vulnerable.

"I don't know." Fandral said and closed his eyes. He felt so weary. He just wanted to sleep. Maybe forever.

"You could hit me, if it would make you feel better." Thor proposed out of the blue and Fandral's eyes flew open. He looked at Thor in shock. For sure he had misheard that!

"What?" he demanded. His mind filled with images of Thor kneeling at his feet with bruises on his face and hands tied behind his back. The thought made Fandral feel like throwing up. That wasn’t what he wanted, to see his prince bloodied and bruised. No.

"They wanted me but went for you instead." Thor explained. "It would only be natural for you to be angry at me." He said it with such a conviction that Fandral felt uncomfortable.

Fandral was angry, but not at his prince, and he had never hit a lover, whether out of anger or because they asked him to. He wouldn’t start now. "I don't think it would make me feel better." he said honestly. Nothing short of his rapists in chains and some time alone with them and a sharp weapon would, he reckoned. 

"I should go." Fandral said after silence settled over them and felt Thor shift beside him, but he didn’t reach for him, didn’t try to stop him. 

"Come back tomorrow night. We will think of something." Thor said and Fandral nodded before getting dressed and leaving for his own bed. 

***

Fandral was dreaming again. He was lying in Thor's bed, lying beside him with the candles creating a cozy atmosphere around them. Thor was looking at him, waiting for him to do something while Fandral was wracking his brain for anything he wanted. 

He turned on his side so he was pressed along Thor's side. They were both naked and hard. Thor turned as well so they laid stomach to stomach and Fandral rocked forward softly, rubbing their erections together, watching Thor's eyes flutter in pleasure. Fandral felt comfortable but soon enough it turned darker again. Thor disappeared and the hands of strangers pressed against him, teeth bit his skin and he woke up with a gasp, cursing.

In his adjoined bathing chamber he splashed cold water on his face to chase the images away, trying to recall the beginning of the dream that had been nicer. 

***

“What was wrong last time?” Thor asked him while they were in his bed the next night, still fully dressed this time, as Fandral had requested. Fandral looked over his shoulder at him from where he sat on the edge of the mattress. Tonight he didn’t feel as much like running, mind slow with the wine he had consumed before. To calm his nerves. 

Fandral shrugged and stared into the flames, flinching slightly when he felt the bed dip and Thor laid his hand beside Fandral’s waist, thumb brushing against him through the fabric of his clothes.

“I’m not sure.” he said, tongue heavy. “Maybe some foreplay.” He looked down at his hands and Thor’s palm stroking a long line done his back made him turn to face his prince. 

As always Thor was at ease, a boulder in the storm. 

“Maybe…” Fandral felt silly voicing his thoughts. Thor looked at him encouraging; palm a warm weight on his back. “Maybe we should kiss.” 

A slow smile spread over Thor’s face, he looked downright delighted. Fandral was a bit taken aback at the enthusiasm his idea was met with. 

“Yes. I’d like that.” Thor said and Fandral laid down beside him so they were face to face. He felt nervous and he chided himself for it, but having to talk about what they’d do and then doing it felt strange to him. Usually his sexual encounters were less planned and more wild, one thing leading to another in a graceful dance, not this awkward shuffling that Thor and him did. 

Their noses bumped together when they leaned in at the same time. Then they both tilted their heads the same way and Thor snorted against his face in amusement. Fandral felt his face grow hot in embarrassment. 

“I yield to you.” Thor chuckled. Fandral swallowed around the lump in his throat and placed one of his palms on Thor’s bearded face, tilting his head the way he wanted it and leaned in. Thor’s beard was rough against his hand, different from all the smooth faced people he usually lay with, but his lips were soft against his own chapped ones. 

For a while they just rested against each other, sharing close mouthed kisses, more chaste than anything Fandral had done in years. It felt strange, almost unnatural and weird for their age and experience but nevertheless it had something nice, innocent. Fandral was used to kisses that inevitable led to sex; kisses as invitation; kisses as a tease and promise for later. The kisses that he shared with now Thor were none of that. It felt nice for a change and Thor yielded so beautifully for him, letting him lead this dance.

Carefully he coaxed Thor’s mouth open with the tip of his tongue, running it over the prince’s bottom lip until he sighed and let him in. Fandral teasingly let their tongues touch before he licked over his lips again, feeling Thor rumble out a deep moan. He let them slide together again and Thor surged against him, pressing them closer together from chest to feet. Thor nudged one of his legs between Fandral’s and he let him. 

Slowly his cock hardened and he rocked against the leg Thor had placed between his thighs. He gasped softly against Thor's mouth. There was no need to go further. Fandral could feel Thor's erection press against his own, but he didn't seem intent to go further. 

"Should we…" Fandral began, feeling strangely flustered and awkward. It wasn't that he wanted to go further but he couldn't remember the last time he had kissed for the sake of kissing. 

"Do you want to?" Thor asked, breathlessly, yearning palpable on his face but he held still against Fandral, waiting for his cue.

"No." Fandral said after a pause. "Is that ok?" he asked and Thor nodded, leaning back in to capture Fandral's lips with his own. 

***

Fandral's dreams that night were soft. He dreamed of the kisses that they had shared. In the morning he woke up feeling strangely light. 

***

“What do you want to try tonight?” Thor asked him after another night of kissing. Fandral’s lips felt bruised and lust was coiling in his belly. Lust that had been absent for weeks now. He had some ideas for what he wanted, with the way his cock straining against the confinement of his pants. They had been so chastely dressed at all times and Fandral was frustrated. He had almost forgotten how it was to have sex. It felt so strange not to fuck.

“Please suck me off,” he said. Thor breathed harshly against his throat, pelvis twitching against Fandral’s thigh at that thought. He seemed to like it. 

“Yeah. I’d like that,” he murmured into Fandral’s skin and then his fingers were fumbling with Fandral’s clothes, pushing his pants down while Fandral pulled his shirt up and over his head until he was naked with Thor lying fully clothed between his thighs. Fandral felt a rush go through him at the image. All of a sudden he wasn’t sure if it felt good or not, if he felt safe or not, but he laid back and stared at Thor encouragingly. It had been too long since he’d have sex. His cock was aching, lying hard against his belly.

Fandral moaned when Thor leaned and breathed over him, teasing him and holding Fandral’s thighs apart with his hands. Reflexively Fandral’s legs twitched, trying to close. His breath hitched in his throat. 

Thor licked up the length of his cock and Fandral moaned at the hot slickness wandering over his sensitive skin. It had been way too long indeed. 

Then Thor let his mouth envelope his cock and Fandral groaned at the feeling of the prince of Asgard swallowing around him. He let his head fall back on the pillow and closed his eyes. Instantly images of his rapists, warped faces rose in the darkness behind his lids and his erection flagged. He wrenched his eyes open again. 

Fandral whined in frustration, balling his fists in the sheets and staring up unseeingly at the ceiling. 

"Focus only on me." Thor said, biting skin of Fandral’s hip gently to draw his attention. Fandral stared down at him. "Keep your eyes on me." Thor said right before he swallowed him back down. 

Fandral kept his gaze on Thor's blond head moving between his legs and groaned when Thor swirled his tongue around the head. He didn't once look away, letting the image of Thor’s face burn itself into his mind’s eye until he came. 

Afterwards he stared at Thor's erection until Thor threw a blanket over his crotch. Blood shot into Fandral's head. He'd never been shy and he sure as hell had never been scared of another man's dick before. The urge to run, to hide himself and his incompetence, rose in his chest and he made an aborted move to rise from the bed as Thor wrapped his arms around him and pulled him to his front. Embarrassment made Fandral struggle. 

"It's ok." Thor said. 

"Are you sure of that?" Fandral gasped and finally fell still in Thor's arms. Thor kissed him. 

"Yes." he said and by his tone Fandral knew that he meant it. 

***

Fandral dreamed. Men were pushing him down against a bed; fingers were buried in his ass, fucking him roughly. He stared up at them and between one blink and the next they changed. It was only one man with golden hair. Thor was looking down at him calmly, fingers digging bruises into Fandral’s skin, holding him against the bed with his weight as Fandral struggled. It was of no use. His cock was thick when he pushed into him and Fandral screamed. 

When Fandral woke up he was unmistakably hard, cock pushing against the fabric of his sleeping pants. Tears tickled at his eyes when he reached down to jerk himself off. He was ashamed. Thor would never do this, it was not in his nature and here was Fandral shaming his name with his sick fantasies. 

***

The steel of their swords clashed against each other. For days Fandral had been feeling on edge, anger simmering between his skin and mind battered with his strange and twisted dreams. It felt good to let it out in a good old swordfight. He lunged forward, feinted, but Thor blocked his attack. Fandral jumped back and pushed Thor's sword aside with his own before aiming another attack at him. 

They danced around each other with the others cheering them on good-natured from the sidelines. Anger churned in Fandral's stomach that he couldn't quite explain. Opposite him Thor looked calm, always calm, always in control. Always, even when they laid together and Fandral was shaking apart, even when his cock was hard and straining between his legs. Fandral's next attack went a little wild and Thor staggered back, a look of surprise flittering over his face. Fandral liked it. He lunged again, driving his sword forward but Thor's blocked him before he could connect. 

Frustrated, Fandral moved back again. Their companions grew quieter, but Fandral didn't even notice, concentrated on the man in front of him. Sweat started to gather on Thor's face but he was still calm, but wary this time, unsure of what to do. Good. A feral grin slipped onto Fandral’s face. 

Thor blocked Fandral's swipes with ease while Fandral's attack grew more and more out of control until Fandral suddenly threw his sword aside and lunged at him with his bare hands. 

Thor's eyes widened and he threw his sword aside as well before he could accidentally hurt Fandral. Not that Fandral cared at this point. His vision was red and he grappled with Thor. Peripherally he could see his companions leaving, ushering others out with them on a signal by Thor but his focus was on the man in front of him. He wanted to hurt him. He wanted to rip that ease from him. 

His fist connected with Thor and whipped his head around and still Thor looked utterly calm, but it was cracking at the edges. It made Fandral want to scream. He threw a punch at Thor who grabbed his fist and suddenly Fandral was on the floor with Thor's weight pinning him down, both his hands pushed against the floor. He trashed against Thor's grip on him, cursing him and shouting. Tears were running down his face that he didn't notice. He screamed as he fought against Thor but he wouldn't budge, eyes closed and breath ragged. A bruise was forming on his face. 

After a while Fandral's struggles ceased, utterly spend he lay motionless under Thor. He felt burned out. Tired. Beaten down and weary.

"I'm scared, too." Thor whispered into the silence. "I'm afraid that I'll hurt you. I do not know how to help you and I feel useless and like I'm losing a friend."

"Like Loki." Fandral whispered back, mind clearing again, and finally chanced a glance at Thor who looked absolutely shattered. He had never seen him look like this. It was frightening. 

"What should I do?" Thor pleaded but Fandral had no answer for him. 

"I don't know. I just don't know." 

***

Fandral laid in his bed, feeling tired. He was scared of falling asleep, but he was so tired. His body ached with bruises from his fight with Thor. He stared up at the ceiling and didn't even notice when he fell asleep. Thor was resting over him, holding himself up on his elbows, a heavy weight on top of Fandral, making it impossible to move. Fandral struggled against him but he couldn't move him. Thor didn’t let himself be moved.

Thor smiled down at him and it was the same gentle smile he always had for Fandral when they were in bed together but he didn't let Fandral get away. Instead he pushed his legs apart and to his shame Fandral grew hard. Thor pushed into him, biting his neck, and Fandral woke up. He lay gasping, cock hard and reached down to relieve himself of the pressure, coming with a desperate whimper. 

Tears stung his eyes. He knew he would have to talk with Thor about this. 

***

"Are you serious?" Thor asked in disbelief. "You want me to rape you?" 

They were sitting in front of Thor's fireplace again and Fandral wished that he had started the conversation differently. He wanted his old eloquence back.

"I want you to pretend to rape me." Fandral corrected him although he was pretty sure that it didn't make the situation any better. "Let me explain." he added at Thor's stony silence, letting his head fall in his hands and rubbing at his eyes. 

"I-" he started. "I dream of you sometimes." 

"What do you dream of?" Thor asked and he sounded almost frightened.

"I dream of - I remember my rapists and what they did." Fandral had to stop as a lump threatened to close his throat. "And lately I've been dreaming of you in their place but -" Fandral's breath heaved. 

"What?" Thor said and took his hand. Fandral didn't pull away, squeezed it instead with his own, holding on. 

"I like it. I wake up hard and I touch myself at those images." Fandral said and looked Thor squarely in the eyes. 

"Are you sure that it would help you?" Thor sounded uneasy, Fandral couldn't blame him.

"I don't know." Fandral said honestly. "But there's not much that could go wrong, right?" he joked. Everything could go wrong but he didn't voice it. Thor already knew that. 

"Alright. I will do it but you will tell me when you want me to stop." Thor said and his voice was hard at the last request. 

"I will. I promise." Fandral said earnestly. 

Thor looked at him. "Tell me what you need me to do." 

***

Thor pushed into his personal space, gripping his arm to keep him in place while he slid his other down Fandral's chest, pulling at his shirt to get at his skin. The fabric tore under his hand. Fandral struggled against his grip but he couldn't move Thor since he didn't want to be moved. Fandral panted, fear rising at him, at the intent look in Thor's blue eyes, the insistence in his touch that allowed no arguments. 

"No." Fandral gasped but Thor didn't listen. To his shame it sparked a bit of excitement in his belly, making him half-hard even though he was scared at the same time. There was no gentleness in the way Thor moved, in the way he looked at him.

Thor gripped his arms hard and shoved him back. Fandral dug his feet into the soft carpet but it was of no use, the back of his legs hit the bed and he fell. The air was forced out of his lungs and then Thor was on top of him, pinning him down with one hand while the other worked on Fandral's clothes, tearing into the gap already opened, widening it and letting the air touch his skin and hardening his nipples. 

Fandral sobbed and trashed, panic rising in him at the feeling of being held down, unable to move. The memories threatened to close over him like a breaking wave. 

"Asgard." he sobbed out and instantly Thor stilled and pulled back, hard grip turning into gentle touches. He pulled back and Fandral closed his eyes, trying to get his rapid breathing back under control. Tears leaked from his eyes and Thor's beard scratched soothingly his cheek when he kissed him. 

"Do you want to stop?" Thor asked softly when Fandral had calmed down somewhat, still feeling shaken, but Fandral shook his head. "No, go on."

Something steadied in Fandral's chest. Before, he hadn't quite believed that Thor would stop when asked but now he knew for sure that he would. 

Thor's hands on him hardened again and he pushed at Fandral again until he was lying on his stomach, gripping the sheets and whispering "no, no, no" furtively as Thor pulled his pants down and bared him to his hungry gaze. He laid down across his back and Fandral couldn't move as Thor's fingers, slick with saliva, pushed at his hole, gentling for just an instant as Fandral's body tensed. He pushed inside and Fandral couldn't hold back the gasp. Thor’s long hair brushed over his shoulder and from the corner of his eyes he could see it’s golden color.

"Don't!" he cried out and Thor bit his shoulder. 

"Shut up." Thor growled and twisted his finger around, rubbing against Fandral's prostate, before working another finger inside. Fandral bucked against him but couldn't dislodge Thor from his back. It was easy to forget Thor's strength when you were friends with him. 

Thor's other hand tangled in his hair and pulled his head back, biting his throat. Uneasiness was still heavy in Fandral's stomach along with a fear that wouldn't leave but safety was only a word away. Thor would listen to him. He kept his eyes open to catch glances of his face, his hair, anything that reminded him who he was in bed with.

When Thor deemed him to be ready he turned him around, back to facing him and pulled Fandral's legs roughly around him as he entered him. Fandral groaned. Thor's cock entering him stung but despite his outward roughness he went slow. Thor wouldn't hurt him. Never. Only if Fandral asked it of him. 

They lay chest to chest and there was an expression of concentration on Thor's face as he held still and then he pulled back in a long slow drag and Fandral forgot to struggle or to protest at the look on Thor's face. He was looking down at him intensely, seeing him. Then he leaned down to capture Fandral's mouth with his own. 

Fandral moaned into the kiss and surged against Thor. Something tipped in the space between one breath and the next and Fandral pushed at him, taking control, until Thor relented and let himself be put on his back with Fandral hovering over him. 

"Put your hands over your head." Fandral whispered and watched as Thor did so without question, eyes wide. The muscles moving in his arms and Fandral leaned down to press their lips together as he sank down on Thor's cock again. 

He moved up and down his cock, enjoying the push and pull of it in his ass and watched Thor grip the headboard tightly, face tense with trying not to thrust up, to let Fandral control the pace. Fandral smiled, bared his teeth.

"Let go." Fandral told him and suddenly Thor's hands were back on his waist, digging bruises into his skin which Fandral didn't care about. Those were bruises he choose for himself and he groaned when Thor bodily lifted him up and let him fall down on his cock again. Fandral braced his hands on Thor’s chest, dragging his nails through the hair on his chest as he deliberately tightened around him. 

“Don’t come.” Fandral hissed and Thor whined pleadingly. His eyes were blown wide with lust, muscles tense. He could feel his cock twitch in his ass but he didn’t come. A cry tore out of Fandral’s throat when he leaned back slightly, angling his pelvis so Thor’s cock brushed against his prostate on every thrust. He grinded against him, feeling the pressure in his groin build up and up and up until it spilled over.

“Now.” Fandral choked out, coming, and Thor almost roared when his orgasm slammed through him as well. 

Fandral slumped over and felt Thor carefully catch him around the waist and laid them both on their sides, facing each other. 

They looked at one another and Fandral could feel shame and doubts creep back in, the memories hanging just at the edge of his awareness. 

"I still have a long way to go." he mused. 

"We'll keep working on it." Thor assured him and leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. "We won't fail." 

"Yeah." Fandral agreed.


End file.
